


No Tell Motel

by obstinatrix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-26
Updated: 2011-08-26
Packaged: 2018-10-17 06:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10588284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obstinatrix/pseuds/obstinatrix
Summary: "He's watching you," Sam says.For 31 Little Abominations over atsassy_otp.





	

**Title** : No Tell Motel  
**Pairing** : Sam/Cas(/Dean)  
**Rating** : NC-17  
**Words** : ~1000  
**Summary** : _"He's watching you," Sam says._ For **31 Little Abominations** over at [](http://sassy-otp.livejournal.com/profile)[**sassy_otp**](http://sassy-otp.livejournal.com/).

"He's watching you," Sam says. His voice is low, its soft reverberation like thunder against the shell of Castiel's ear, and his hand slides low, too, to match it, spreading Castiel's thighs with his fingers. "Watching you give it up for me, Cas. Gonna give it up for us?"

" _Sam_." Castiel's head falls back, loose and unexpected and unresisting as his hips thrust forward into Sam's touch, into the cradle of his big, capable hand. On the other side of the parking lot, he knows, Dean is watching, body flat to the glass doors of the second room they booked, eyes fixed on Castiel's body. Castiel's body, boneless and trembling, his taut spine nudged up against Sam's front, his balls tightening in Sam's hand. _God_. Castiel is naked, smooth and pale in Sam's arms, bare against his denim and plaid. Dean is watching the two of them like this, his brother and his angel uncovered, because Dean is some kind of pervert and Castiel can't help liking it; can't help the way it makes his breath catch in his throat to imagine Dean's reaction. "Oh," he whimpers, " _Dean_."

"Yeah," Sam encourages, the word rasped out of his throat, and Castiel can feel him against his backside, the fat swell of his cock nudged up against the small of his back. He's shifting slightly, incremental rolls of his hips, and Castiel pushes back into them, riding the wave.

"Sam," he hisses, " _please_."

Sam isn't patient. Castiel's known this about him for years, has known it since the first time he watched him with Ruby, back when they were barely acquaintances. Sam is demanding, possessive, and a little gentle provocation is all it takes for him to snap; to draw in a breath through his teeth and slip his hand down further, back between Castiel's legs.

"I got you," Sam is whimpering, and the flat of his index finger makes little circles over Castiel's entrance, dry, desperate drags of skin over the centre of the pucker. "Yeah, Cas, _God_." His breath is coming short and fast against the back of Castiel's ear, and on the far side of the lot, Dean's hand is snaking slow and sure into his pants, thumbing open the zipper, drawing out his cock. Castiel shoves back _hard_ , reflexive, onto Sam's finger at the sight, wanting more. Oh, Dean. Oh, Sam. God, but he _wants_.

"Sam," he repeats, everything about it brazen now as his hips thrust up against air, his cock thick and throbbing, fluid pearling up out of the slit. He wants Sam's hand there, craves his touch, and he wants to feel Sam's dick, too, its hot velvet skin against his ass. Sam is so _big_ , everything about him raw and human, and Castiel wants to feel those fingers circling his dick, wants to push up into the tunnel of his fist. He bucks a little, pleading, and Sam gets the message, makes no attempt to resist. After all, Sam is watching, too, as Dean's hand starts to work over his cock, as Dean's thighs splay wide and shameless, showing the dark place between his legs. Sam has a strange, unplaceable feeling for Dean, but Castiel doesn't mind that. After all, he has a strange, unplaceable feeling for Castiel, too, and it is Castiel whose skin is currently under his hands, whose cock is currently -- _oh --_ sliding in Sam's fist.

"Cas," Sam murmurs, and his hand is soon blurring, thumb swiping at the tip of Castiel's cock as it works, swift up and down, coaxing out obscene sounds as he works the foreskin back and forth over the head. "God -- so fucking hot --"

Castiel's eyes fall closed. He can't resist the impulse, and he has no reason to. Sam's, after all, are still wide open, tracking the motion of his own hand on Cas's blood-hot dick, tracking the way his brother's hand is pulling at his cock. Sam is the studious one, the chronicler of the action, and Castiel is content to leave this in his capable hands. If anyone else should walk past...well. Let them. Castiel is close, Sam's finger working its subtle way inside of him, inch by inch, and the muscles in his stomach are pulling tight with effort. Let them look.

" _Sam,"_ he manages, helpless, "oh, God - oh, Sam - " and the tight arrow of orgasm is pushing into his groin, filling him with a tension that cannot persist. He clenches his toes, rears back into the support of Sam's body. "Oh, God -- _Sam_ \--"

"Yeah," Sam says, hotly. "Yeah, Cas, that's it. Come on, dude. Come for me. Dean wants to see it."

And that, that's _all_ , Castiel's legs pushing out stiff and straight with the force of orgasm breaking, a cry of surrender spilling hotly from his lips as he pulses over Sam's hand. Oh, _oh_. He is on the verge of blasphemy, though it makes little sense to him. On the far side of the lot, he thinks, Dean is probably coming, because of _them_. Sam is unzipping his jeans, pressing the naked spine of his cock against the swell of Castiel's backside; rubbing the slick head of it in wet little trails against the dip of his tailbone. God, these Winchesters. He would do anything for them, and who could blame him, the way they make him feel? He would do anything.

"Sam," he murmurs, slumping against Sam's body. When he opens his eyes, Dean is looking back at them, heavy-lidded, spent. Behind him, Sam is mouthing at the bolt of his jaw, breathing tightly through his nose as he rubs himself against Castiel's ass.

"Yeah," Sam tells him. "Yeah, Cas -- _shit_. Holy fucking Christ."

The blasphemy is illogical, but Castiel thinks he likes it. Something about it makes him want to stay.


End file.
